


Rest For The Wicked

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Murder and Consequences [3]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sun rises and Damian finally sleeps. But all they can do is worry about what comes next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t feel like I have anything to explain, that’s a first. Also, despite the jokes and lots of cuddling, reminder that this series is 118% platonic. (With only hints of maybe Joyfire being a thing.)

Jason listened from the kitchen, quietly eating the fast food Dick had brought, as Dick tried to calm the kid down in the bedroom. Listened as Damian cried and whined and apologized a thousand more times.

It was at least an hour, probably closer to two, before Dick reemerged, running his fingers through his hair.

“He’s asleep.” He sighed. “…For now.”

“Should I even ask how he’s doing?” Jason asked. Dick hesitated and shrugged. “…You should get some sleep too, Dick.”

“And you, Jay.” Dick countered, moving into the kitchen. “We should all sleep for the next two days, after last night.”

Silence.

“We’ve gotta get rid of the car.” Dick began listing immediately. “Ditch it somewhere. Destroy it, maybe.”

“We’ll need food.” Jason added. “And the kid needs clothes. As much as I don’t think Kory and Roy will mind he’s borrowing theirs, it’s not like he can go out in public in that.”

“We need medical supplies, too. Has he mentioned any sort of injury?”

“Dick, he hasn’t said five fucking words since we left the city.” Jason sighed. “…I didn’t see any on him last night when I was cleaning him off.”

“…Still. A check-up wouldn’t hurt.” Dick decided, running his hand over his face as he leaned against the island. The circles under his eyes were getting darker every hour.

“…Should we tell someone we’re here?” Jason whispered. “Not Bruce, obviously, but. I don’t know. Kory? Your friend here in Central? Diana?”

“No.” Dick said immediately. “Not until Bruce finishes his investigation, at least.” He paused, and glanced back to the bedroom. “…He wants to interrogate Damian.”

“Kid’s traumatized, what the hell does he think he’s going to get?!” Jason snapped. “You told him how Damian was, right?”

“I did, I did. He claimed he wanted to talk to Damian before he might forget anything.” Dick held up his hand in a silent plea for calm. “He swore he’d be gentle, but. You know how he is. Something like this…I’m afraid he might forget himself. Accidentally treat Damian like he were Two-Face or something, instead of his own, preteen _son_.”

“…Find any evidence at the scene?” Jason asked. “To corroborate what Damian said? How long did you stick around?”

“Until Gordon and his crew got there.” Dick murmured. “I didn’t talk to him, Bruce did. Tim found a security camera, but we weren’t sure if it was operational. He said he’d let me know as soon as he found anything.”

There was a sound from the bedroom, a little moan, and Dick immediately rushed across the room to check. Jason even found himself holding his breath, until Dick’s shoulders relax and he turned back towards him.

“Do you know what Bruce said to Gordon?” Jason asked, as Dick rejoined him.

“No.” Dick admitted, then frowned. “But…”

“But?”

“It was…weird.” Dick whispered. “When he got there, I told him what you and Damian told me. After a minute, he asked for Damian’s sword, and I gave it to him.”

“…So?”

“…By the time Gordon and his men got there, the sword was gone. None of the cops mentioned it.” Dick whispered. “I even heard one of them say  ‘no weapon found on scene.’”

“…Are you saying Bruce _hid_ it?” Jason gaped. “He hid evidence from the cops?”

“…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying.” Dick shook his head, and sighed, running his hands through his hair again. “This is so fucked up.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” Jason snorted bitterly, and Dick glanced up at him. “…What?”

“…How are _you_ doing, Jason?” Dick whispered. “With all of this?”

“How am I doing with what? The fact that that kid just ruined his whole fucking life to kill a guy for _me_?” Jason hissed. “Fucking _great_.”

“…Jason, this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is, Dick. I’m the one who always brought it up. I’m the one who got into Bruce’s face about it every time I saw him. Who used my death to belittle all of you, the brat included, up until he died himself anyway.” He sighed, crossed his arms. “…I never wanted _him_ to do this.”

“I know that. _He_ knows that.” Dick promised. “…You know how Damian is. He cares through violence.”

Jason didn’t answer.

“He’ll kill for those he loves. He killed to protect Bruce before. Attacked his grandfather to protect Tim.” Dick suddenly looked down, face dark and guilty, when he whispered, “…He _died_ to protect me.”

“And was going to sacrifice himself to the Court to protect you, too.” Jason remembered. “…You don’t sleep real well at night, do you, Dickie?”

Dick laughed, and it was a sad sound. “Not for a long time, Jay.”

“…Bruce blames me, doesn’t he.” Jason murmured. “I bet Tim does. He likes to do that.”

“I don’t know.” Dick answered honestly. “I don’t know what either of them think. We didn’t talk about…about emotions and _feelings_. I just…told him what you told me, what I saw with my own eyes, and what I told you to do. If we were going to talk about blame and all of that, Gordon got there before we could.”

“…Do you think the kid will tell us what really happened?” Jason asked.

“I’m hoping he’ll say a little more after he wakes up, but…no. I don’t.” Dick admitted. “That’s why I hope Tim finds the tape before we have to ask. I’d rather not force him to relive it, if I don’t have to.”

“Hm.” Jason sighed, pushing away from the counter and walking into the living room, towards the back sliding door. He pushed back the curtain, stared into the tiny yard. “…And what do we do if B decides he _is_ mad, about this?”

“You didn’t do anything, Jason, so you can do what you like. You could go back to Gotham, back to normal. Or not. It wouldn’t matter.” Dick shrugged, following Jason into the living room, and flopping onto the couch. “…I would take Damian and relocate. Maybe change our names, so he couldn’t find us. Maybe get out of the vigilante business. Try to live the life I always wanted. Give Damian the life he deserved from the start.”

Jason snorted, and turned back towards the room. “No way, Dickie. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Kid did this for _me_ , so he’s stuck with me whether he wants me or not. So, I guess that means you are too.”

Dick grinned. “Man, if only the world knew what a big ol’ heart the Red Hood has.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Go get some sleep with the kid, asshole. You need it.”

“So do you.” Dick reminded. “So, I’m not going if you aren’t.”

“Is that the kind of parents we’re going to be now? I call dibs on Dad. You have to be Mom.” Jason droned, and Dick laughed. “Besides, I wanted to take a shower. Didn’t get one last night when we got here.”

Dick frowned. “Okay. Take your time.”

“You better be in that bed by the time I get out.” Jason threatened as he moved towards the bathroom. “Or I’m going to stay awake another 24 hours, just to spite you.”

He heard Dick snort as he closed the bathroom door. Waited a second, listened to Dick get off the sofa before sighing. He stripped as he stepped forward, throwing the clothes into the sink, where he’d put Damian’s the night before.

The bathtub was still a mess. Rivers of brown trailed down the bath’s interior, leaking from the pile of bloody vigilante uniform parts. As he hit the water faucet, he wondered how hard it was to clean dried blood out of tile.

He kept himself faced towards the showerhead during his cleansing, unable to stare at the evidence of the night’s crimes, of the destruction of Damian’s hard-earned, regained innocence.

He let the hot water rush over him, and at one point closed his eyes. Ran his hands over his face, over and over and over.

All he could see was Damian’s empty stare. The boy’s tears as he promised Jason that they Joker could never hurt him again, that he’d fixed it, took care of everything for his elder, estranged brother. The tears of blood as he stood drenched in this very shower.

Dick was wrong – this _was_ his fault.

After a few more minutes, he shut the water off, and stepped out. As he dried himself, he involuntarily looked back into the tub. At that golden cape still stained, the red tunic with dark splotches across it.

Maybe they could destroy this along with the car. Burn the fucker with the uniform inside. Let someone find the remains, and believe Robin was dead again.

Kill Robin again, make this death permanent, but not Damian. Not this time.

He shook his head as he pulled the clothes from the sink and put them back on, not particularly caring about the potential residue of last night’s events they might have on them. They were clean enough.

When he exited the bathroom, Dick wasn’t in the living room, or in the kitchen. Jason nodded at that, hoping his older brother actually did what he had demanded, and gone to sleep.

It wasn’t so, it turned out, as he walked into the bedroom. Dick was still awake, a fast food bag beside him on the bed. Damian was lying on his chest, still asleep as Dick gently stroked his spine with one hand, digging in the bag for cold fries with the other.

Dick glanced over when Jason paused in the threshold.

“Feel better?” He asked quietly. Jason nodded. “Good. Want some fries?”

“Pass.” Jason shook his head. Dick accepted it, pushing the bag away to pat the empty side of the bed. Jason accepted the invitation. “He didn’t wake up when you moved him?”

“He woke up for a hot second a few minutes ago. I got the food and asked him if he wanted to eat. He said no, and was determined to stay awake again, mostly because he couldn’t see _you_ , and I couldn’t produce you, so was starting to panic. So I gathered him up here, to try to keep him calm, and the rest is history.” Dick smiled as Jason climbed up next to him. “Probably would have picked him up anyway – don’t think all three of us would have fit as it was.”

Jason shrugged, curling up on his side facing Dick. “Kory, Roy and I fit just fine.”

“Do you now?” Dick smirked. “And how’s that going with them?”

“Good. They’re good people. I’m glad to know them.” Jason nodded absently, thinking of his friends. Knew Roy was probably going out of his mind with worry. He wondered if they knew yet, if what Damian had done had hit the news. He wondered how many people would just assume that he did it. “…Dick?”

“What?”

“…I’m sorry I ruined your protégé.”

Dick flopped his head over to look at Jason. “And I’m sorry I didn’t kill that bastard first.” A pause. “Or at least, when I did, death didn’t fucking _stick_.”

“…You still have to tell me that story.” Jason whispered. “No one…I didn’t know you did that.”

“I bet you didn’t know Damian tried to kill the Joker once before, too.” Dick hummed, glancing down at Damian’s face as he lifted his hand to pet his hair. “In police custody with a crowbar, no less.”

“You’re shitting me.”

Dick grinned.

“Way back when, when I was wearing the cape and cowl.” Dick offered. “But, we can talk about all that later. Now, we’ve gotta get some sleep.”

Jason yawned, reached out and grabbed a handful of fries, shoving them into his mouth. As he swallowed he looked over at Damian. Face peaceful, but pale, cushioned against Dick’s chest. He shifted closer, pulling his pillow down to rest his head right next his. A second later, he felt Dick shift to lean his against Jason’s too.

“Yeah.” Jason whispered, carefully, reaching out to hook his fingers around Damian’s. “…Goodnight, Dick.”

He felt Dick kiss his head, saw his arm wrap protectively around Damian’s back. “Goodnight, Jay.”


End file.
